


Plagues

by silvercolour



Series: And the rest is history [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, The Prince of Egypt (1998)
Genre: Actually it’s still Crawly at this point, Angst, Crowley said you can’t kill kids and g-d said hold my flower, Did I mention angst, Gen, I refuse to tag this as bible fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 01:21:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22127689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvercolour/pseuds/silvercolour
Summary: Both sides seem to think that Something is going to Happen in Egypt... Crowley dearly wishes It Wouldn’t.[stand-alone]
Series: And the rest is history [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1592803
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15
Collections: Chaotic Omens: The Fallout of a Big Bang





	Plagues

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is Crowley POV, next will be Aziraphale^^  
> Please let me know what you think when you’ve read it!

1240 B.C. -  Egypt

They stand on opposite sides of Pharaoh’s reception hall when Moses returns from the desert. A shared look, an understanding between them. They may not be on the same side, and may think wildly different things about Moses, but one opinion they do share. Have shared for many years.

You can’t kill kids.

Crawly thinks back on that day, at the start of the flood. How hard he’d tried to fix it (still surprised he is, that hell never noticed what he was doing). How useless he felt as the rain turned to downpour, and the land to sea.

He may have saved more lives, more species than God had intended, but how many more could he have saved- if he’d had more time, or even some help. He asks himself, asks the universe (no answer there) how many more kids could he have saved, how many futures. 

God he does not ask. God he accuses instead. He demands How could You, and Why would You. That he receives no answer from Her is not a surprise to Crawly, but he resents it all the same.

Now he is in Egypt, looking at the outcome, of another one of Her ineffable plans. A man -barely, only just done with being a boy, who has spoken with Her. (Why him, he wants to ask, why now, why not the others, who needed You, but ask he does not. He’s sure he won’t like the answer if he should receive any at all.)

And despite his- his _political_ stance -being a demon and all- he does understand why. A little bit, at least.

You see Crawly has been in Egypt for some time now, and most of his time has not been spent in the palace, like today. Most of his time has been spent in the Hebrew settlements on the edges of the city.

Below had received word that God was Up to Something, and that Her Angels had been seen about in Egypt. So, the Morningstar had decided, there should be demons there too. No one Below seemed to know yet what the Plan was, but send someone to thwart it, they did.

Crawly wonders vaguely whether they send him alone because they believe in him, or because they expect his failure, and wish for it. Both seem likely enough, depending on whose decision it was to send him in the end. The Morningstar ever has faith (if such a thing can be said of Lucifer at all) in his first fallen, those who went with him in the Beginning. The dukes? Ha! They would sooner see him blessed than successful.

Not knowing what Plans he should be thwarting, Crawly had ample time to investigate this enormous city the humans had built. That they were, in point of fact, still building to this day. Not for lack of houses, but for lack of grandeur in Pharaoh’s eyes.

Several missives later with his “results” and Crawly was certain the Dukes hated him. Greed and jealousy barely needed encouragement at all in this city led by wealthy priests and a king-god. Grander and more expensive temples and statues were planned, all because of a few whispers that this or that temple was planning the same, and would soon overshadow all others. This human city hardly needs demon help to accomplish it’s evil.

What his letters Below failed to mention, was God’s plans. Crawly could find none, no angels sent to help, nor floods planned to wipe away all but the most faithful. So the demon looked beyond the city, and found the settlements, the people living in the edges and shadows of the over-grand capitol.

In these settlements Crawly found despair. A human emotion so strong it may taint even a demon if looked at too closely. For the people Crawly found were loyal, faithful, even in their misery. Some found it harder than others to have faith, but they persisted. For how long they could continue this, Crawly couldn’t say. Only the elderly remembered stories of a time when they were a free people, and though they believed in Her, these people did not believe they could ever find reprieve, let alone be saved from their situation.

‘Not the kids’- Crawly has to close his eyes. When he opens them he sees not the grand hall he is in, not the palace and it’s riches, but the people who built these, and many other places. He sees them live in shacks, in poverty, in misery. Worse than any of that, he sees the generation that is missing.

It had taken him near a month of hanging out in the settlements to notice, but in hindsight it seems obvious. There were no boys of a certain age, and when mothers were asked what age a child was they would squint at him, or look over their shoulders, worried as to why an outsider might ask.

It took him a month, one evening and a lot of bad beer shared with an elderly lady to find out why. “You can’t kill kids” he had echoed his own words from centuries ago -it seems like yesterday still, the memories are so clear before him. The grandmother had looked at him, really Looked -she might’ve been a witch, Crawly never could tell the difference- and said “they did. And they could again, for we wouldn’t be able to stop them.” As she downed the last of her beer she added “it’s best if you stop asking around dear, you’re making everyone nervous.”

Crawly blinks again and the settlement retreats from his vision. He blinks once more against the smoke these fake sorcerers are conjuring-are making others conjure for their theatrics. Across the grand hall he shares a look with an angel, and understanding passes between them.

He knows not what Aziraphale sees when he looks at all this theatre and grandstanding and monumental architecture. Crawly is not even certain what She is planning, why She has sent this Moses to do Her work for Her. But he knows Aziraphale understands.

Crawly hears an echo, one he is mostly certain no one else hears “And they could again, for we wouldn’t be able to stop them.”

Just this once Crawly will not interfere with whatever Her plans are, consequences be blessed, and sides be damned.

“It’s best if you stop asking about it, dear”

You can’t kill kids.

* * *

Of course she does anyway.

Crawly feels betrayed. He made no agreements with Aziraphale, and definitely none with God. Neither of them have broken any promise towards him. Even so, when Gods sends Her last plague, he feels betrayed.


End file.
